The Sedalia weekly bazoo. [volume] (Sedalia, Mo.) 187?-1904, 1887-08-23
NOT AN HEIRESS.
The Story Of Miss Dickson's
Legacy.

YES" said Miss Dickson; 81 think
now that can afford to see little of
the world. I've always been tucked
down in cheap clearinghouse, doing
embroidery or the sly for the fancy
stores and keeping up great appear
ance On very slim foundation, and
I'm tired of this sort of business. Noto
can expand into ladyr'
Old Aunt Zeruiah Dodd, down in
New Jersey, had been as long in dying
as if she were blood relation to the
Wandering Jew; but the unavoidable
moment had come at last, and she had
paid Natures debt unwillingly enough,
and Miss Dickson was to be her heiress.
There must be hundred thousand
dollars at least" said Miss Dickson.
GOOD land of liberty! and up to this
time I've been counting my pennies
and trying to make both ends meet, to
keep out of the poor-house. 1t don't
seem possible! What a world this is!''
Mary Ann Dickson, usually called
"Aunt Polly" looked at herself in the
glass. She was not a beauty, and it
was very plain that she never could be
one; but there were possibilities that
she might be what was called ''stylish,"
and that was the next best thing.
just about this time her niece, Mary
Ann, came up from the old farm and.
as was natural enough, proceeded
straight to Aunt Polly's clearinghouse
for refuge.
Aunt Polly regarded her rather sour.
H.
What brings you here, child? And
noU, of all times in the world?" she
said.
''Grandfather is dead. explained the
child, timidly, land the old house is
sold, and I had nowhere else to 60; and
the neighbors said there would be lots
of ways for strong girl like me to
earn her living in New York"
1.-The neighbors, indeedr' sputtered
Miss Dickson. 81 wish the neighbors
would mind their own business. What
on earth am / to do with q great girl
like you?"
Little Mary Ann burst into tears.
''Oh, I'm sorry camel said she.
'T'm sorry came! But, you know.
you have spent three summers a. Apple
Farm, and You always said you would
be glad to see me when / came to the
city"
Miss Dickson made grimace.
"What can't be cured must be en-
dured," said she. "ARd suppose
you'll have to stay. But, mind, child,
no Aunt Polly-ing' me. 1 am Miss
Dickson now-and you are my maid"
Your maid, Aunt mean, Miss
Dickson?"
yes" nodded Miss Dickson. "You
expect to have to work for a living.
don't you?'
''Oh, yes; but"
There are no buts.'' imperiously in
terposed Miss Dickson. "Do you sup
pose / can support you in idleness? |
wonder at the impudence of some
folks"
81 am willing TO work, - sobbed little
Mary Ann.
''Of course l shall not pay You any
wages. Nobody in their senses would
expect that, when you're just out of the
backwoods, and will have to be taught
every thing. If there is any question
of money, it is that ought to be paid,
] think. But you'll have your board
and clothes-there will be always
enough of my old gowns to keep you
looking respectable. And, as I'm GO
ing to travel, you will see the world,
with no expense to yourself"
ITO travel?" repeated the girl.
Miss Dickson nodded.
I'm going to inherit little money"
said she, vaguely-Gt would not do to
tell Mary Ann how much, lest, in her
ignorance of the world, the child should
imagine that her relative could be more
generous with her)-s.and I've decided
to visit Saratoga and Lake George, and
all those places. And of course shall
need maid, so you see you can be of
service. AS servant you'll get board
at half price, and not cost me so much;
and dare say / can teach you to be
very handy"
Mary Ann turned scarlet
''When you came to Maple Farm, "
said she, ''we didn't set you to wash
ing dishes and feeding the pigs. We
were glad to see you; we gave you the
best in the house, and made you well